


Yasha's Playlist Series

by CriticalGayBeau



Series: Yasha's Playlist Series [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Beauregard will be here at some point, Beauyasha later, F/F, Yasha is a sad gal, Yasha is so soft, idek how many songs are on the playlist, idek what else, its gonna be mostly sad, probs the mighty nein being dorks, some gay ass shit, start of a series, why did I agree to this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-13 01:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CriticalGayBeau/pseuds/CriticalGayBeau
Summary: A bunch of Yasha oneshots with features from different members of the M9 and more, inspired by Ashley Johnson's playlist based on Yasha(RECOMMENDED: LISTENING TO IT WHILST READING)





	Yasha's Playlist Series

All Yasha could hear was soft breathing from beside her. The slow and relaxed tempo acted as a focus for her; as a silencer to her thoughts. Though, before she could get wrapped up in the thought, a pastel pink exhale ghosted against her neck gently, curling up and caressing her earlobe with a warmth before wandering languidly behind her neck. This is why Yasha liked Zuala so much, much more than she had admitted to her, but she didn’t know how to explain to her that she brought peace; brought hope into her mind and all the things which were very much so needed, especially now.

She needed Zuala on the nights that she hunted for sleep, because, as much as she searched, she could never find the royal blue satin fabric that rested over the veil of rest. Although, when they were together she didn’t really want to sleep either, so the hunt for sleep slowly dissipated into a haphazard chase for rest which was mostly driven out of necessity. Truthfully, she’d always had an issue with sleeping, arguably even more so on the nights she rested alongside Zuala- she didn’t ever want to not commit a moment with her to memory, so there was never truly an escape in this endless labyrinth of consciousness. It was then that the symphony of silence lead by Zuala’s breathing that played this quiet night was accompanied for a brief moment by the subtle rustle of beige cotton sheets as Zuala pulled them closer to her chest, the humble orange candle light flickering in answer to a silent ask of movement, illuminating a warm glow and warming the room slightly.  
Usually, Yasha avoided the light of candles to sleep with, when alone, the grey anxiously shifting shadows of the room would shape her perception of her surroundings. Her mismatched eyes would deceive her as mahogany wood walls would draw a reminder of a sturdy hilt belonging to a slaying weapon; as the silver sliver of moonlight that shone against the glass window pane would evolve into the shine of a iron sword; as the flames grow and burn it would imprint a reflection of the smouldering flames in her eyes and soul. It is the reason why Yasha only ever lit the wooden room fully, in hope to dispel any darkness; to expose the real and physical. If she did not, the room would be left to be drenched in a black void where in the absence of the light the corners would fill with a viscous murk thick enough to block out any thoughts of darkness that preyed on her mind. Skipping around the thought, her attention was drawn towards the way that the flames could not paint an image on Zuala’s face. There was no attempt to morph her face of beauty to a reminder of the potential killer within Yasha, no, there was only the gentle licks of distant candlelight flame along her skin, highlighting her now shut eyes and soft lips. Although despite her beauty and warmth, Yasha knew that there was a fire that burned in Zuala, bright, beautiful and mesmerising. It was a flame that she would always catch herself watching as she blazed in a flash of red...it was inescapable- not that she minded much anyway.

Yasha inhaled deeply and turned onto her side, lying on the large shared bed, her pale skin slid across the sheets, whispering in it’s own right whilst the smoke of burnt wick and melting wax filled her lungs, thick and hypnotic but past that and through the damp smell of the soon-to-be rotting wood in the far corner of the room there was a faint glimpse of Zuala’s shampoo, it laced the air with a overriding wave of calm that then took over Yasha’s body. Zuala’s breath came into focus once again bringing Yasha’s wandering mind back to focus as she subconsciously began to count the slow in and exhalations that entered and exited her partner’s mouth in waves. She eventually came to some sort of a comfortable rest and watching the gentle up and down motions of Zuala’s chest she began to match the pacing of her breathing. At first it felt uncomfortable in her chest as her lungs burned lowly before slowly easing in their pain and it began felt natural as all the tension in her shoulders and back ceased. It reminded her of how it was like when Zuala and herself began as partners. Yasha had always been unsure if she could find herself trusting and relying on another person, her fear of causing pain was too high for her to even think about. Slowly though, she came to be involuntarily drawn to a burning torch of strength and she found herself edging nearer to Zuala’s body constantly, she began to focus on her eyes and started to struggle with controlling her speech around her. Although, she would still be lying if she said she wasn’t scared, after all, there was still a fear that swirled and grew in her chest every time Yasha felt herself slipping towards surrendering to an animalistic hunger for blood that came from deep within. Knowing that despite the fact that she hadn’t given in yet, she’d still feel it in her heart that something would come from it someday, she didn’t know when, it was impossible to know but the tug in her heart sent an warning that there was a future from this desire.

By now, Yasha lay beside Zuala, her eyes began to shut in the hope for sleep to come and overtake her body and mind. Whilst she waited, she hesitantly reached a pale lightly scarred hand out to stroke the soft skin of Zuala’s cheek, squeezing her eyes shut further as she did so, something in her chest threatened to burst past its constraints, but with the emotion driven swell there was a tug of lingering melancholy, whilst she knew that Zuala would keep to loving the darkest parts of her when she thought none would, she doubted if she would be able to aid Zuala when she burned too brightly, she ventured the thought of if she could handle the heat of the flames that she emitted, or if eventually she’d fall into the collateral damage when the full flames unleashed beyond her control and would then burn all that they’ve ever known, worked and lived for and in an instant, turning it into fire, ash and soot.

“That is another day’s worry,” she told herself whilst the weight of sleep, finally came to cause relief on her mind and body for another night.


End file.
